Carrie Alexander - Count on a Cop Page 15

  Surprisingly, he wanted to. They didn’t have much time left to get to know each other.

  “Well, it happened too fast,” he said after considering how to start. “We met and married within eight months, with Josh already on the way. By then Jen was already realizing that she wasn’t so thrilled with my job, especially when I was reassigned and we moved from Boston to a small town. Five years later, we were done. Straightaway, she found another guy who was a lot more successful than me, and was going to do even better with his new job in California.”

  “Ouch. Ego blow.”

  Sean shook his head. “I knew going in that my career would never make me rich. I didn’t care. There are other rewards.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Not that I don’t like success and the things that money can buy, but I’ve been sticking to a budget for as long as I can remember. It’s practically second nature by now.” Connie turned her head and kissed his knuckles. The gesture of acceptance was more meaningful to Sean than he’d expected.

  “I’ve always thought that a good home life is most important,” she said. “The little, everyday kind of stuff, I mean. Like they say, life is what happens when you’re not paying attention. So if you’re not enjoying the small daily moments—a sunset or a laugh over dinner, for instance—what’s the point?”

  “But you can enjoy a sunset from a mansion as easily as a humble cottage.”

  “Of course. Either way you look at it, the trappings aren’t what makes you happy. I learned that real fast when Phil got sick and we had to put every penny toward the medical bills that our insurance didn’t cover.”

  Sean squinted into the sun, ablaze on the horizon. “So it’s your turn. Tell me about your husband.”

  “We met in college, at U Conn. I had about half a dozen boyfriends at the time, and Phil was just a friend at first. He was the nicest guy. Incredibly funny and smart. He made me laugh every day, and after a while I realized that I’d rather spend my time with him than any of the others. He, of course, said that was the plan all along.”

  “Then it’s true that women go for a sense of humor above looks?” Sean made a face. “Damn. I was counting on my classic profile and toned physique to dazzle you.”

  “Don’t discount those yet.” She tipped her head forward to run her gaze over him. Her eyes twinkled like fairy lights. “Besides, for a man who says he’s the serious type, you’ve got a pretty keen sense of humor.”

  “Get back to you and Phil.”

  “Well, let’s see.” Her hesitation was awkward, as if she didn’t know whether reminiscing with him was the right thing to do. “We eloped midway through our junior year,” she began in an even tone. “Money was tight, so I dropped out to make ends meet while Phil finished his degree. We had Pippa when I was twenty-three, one of life’s little surprises. By then, Phil had a good job and his parents had helped us out with a downpayment so we could buy a house. Then, just when everything was set for happy-ever-after, he was diagnosed with leukemia.”

  Sean’s hand on her shoulder suddenly felt heavy and wooden. “I’m sorry.”

  Connie nodded, and he knew that any sympathy he could offer would be inadequate.

  Eventually she took a deep breath and kept going. He admired the way she faced up to her hurt. “Phil was determined to beat it. And he did. He went into remission. I had started a vegetable garden to help with the food budget and gradually that turned into a part-time business. Then Phil got sick again.” She stopped, biting her lip and blinking to keep the tears back. “He couldn’t work. I took a monotonous office job and went to master gardener classes at night, keeping up with my gardening clients on the weekends.”

  “I knew you were tough.”

  “Phil was tougher. But in the end, still not tough enough.” She dabbed at her eyes. “The past few years have been a struggle, but at least my business has thrived.”

  “You should be proud of yourself.”

  “I am, for the most part.” She let out a long breath, and he felt the tension drain out of her. “I worry about Pippa and how losing her dad has affected her. But I guess you know that already.”

  “It seems to me now that my parents made raising a family look so easy, but here I am, struggling to get it right with just one.”

  “Yeah.” Her mouth puckered into a tight smile. “Why can’t our kids just cooperate the way we did?”

  “Okay, maybe it wasn’t easy for our parents, either.”

  She sighed and leaned back in the swing, turning her face toward his. “Teaming up helps.”

  Her expression was remarkably unguarded for a woman who’d seen such hard times. He glanced toward the window, wishing he could be half so open. “Those two in there might not agree.”

  “Pippa’s trying not to show how much she wants Josh to like her.”

  “Josh doesn’t want to show that he likes anything.”

  “Were you ever like that?”

  “Still am.”

  “Ah, yes.” Her lids drifted lower, almost closing. “It’s a good thing adults know how to show their affection even when they don’t want to say it out loud.”

  He clasped the back of her neck, his fingers tunneled through the fine silk of her hair. “How would that be?”

  “See if you can figure it out.”

  He settled his mouth on hers with a quiet deliberation, despite the turmoil inside that said kissing her right now, right there, wasn’t a good idea. He simply wasn’t able to resist, especially when she shifted against him, put her hand on his chest and parted her lips the slightest bit. His desire became as fluid and hot as the sunset. Arousal prickled in his bloodstream.

  He wrapped her in his arms to deepen the kiss. Her lips tasted salty, but her tongue was soft and sweet when he touched it with his.

  “Did I do that right?” he whispered after a while.

  The answer simmered between them. She pressed closer, rubbed her nose and cheek over his jaw. “I haven’t decided yet. We should try again.”

  “Good idea.”

  They kissed, sharing light caresses. Gradually, his concerns became less important. Funny how sex did that to a guy, he thought, still distantly recognizing that he was playing with fire. Except even that warning was too easy to disregard when Connie felt so right in his arms.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered against her mouth.

  Her tongue licked across his lip. “I know.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled away, but only far enough to put an inch or two between them. He kissed her forehead, breathed in the scent of her, told himself to savor every moment, remember every detail, in case…

  Instinctively, he opened his eyes.

  Josh stood on the other side of the door, glaring.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JUST WHEN CONNIE HAD RELAXED and rested her head on Sean’s shoulder, expecting the emotional roller coaster she’d been on for most of the evening to cruise to a stop, the ride took a hairpin turn.

  Sean pulled away. “I can’t do this. Not now.”

  She sat up and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. Hard.

  “You can’t do what?”

  He didn’t look at her, only stared at the window before answering as if he’d swallowed a truckload of gravel. “Start a relationship. Fall—fall for you.”

  Connie wanted to whip out a sassy comment about how she didn’t know that was what they’d been doing. But her lips quivered. She did know. She’d known all along, even when she’d been telling herself they were simply passing their vacation time together.

  She dropped her hands to her lap. “I wasn’t aware it involved a decision.”

  “Right,” he said heavily. “It should just happen.”

  “Um, I don’t know. I don’t…” She was no more prepared for their unexpected romance than he was, but having it withdrawn had opened a sucking whirlpool in her gut.

  She put a tentative hand on Sean’s leg, trying to get him to turn and look at her. “Why are you doin
g this?”

  He turned, but it was to glance toward the window once more. “Josh. He saw us.”

  “Oh, no.” She spun around. “Where is he?”

  “He took off. Out the back door, I think.”

  “What about Pippa?”

  “It’s okay. She’s inside, watching TV. She doesn’t know.”

  “She probably wouldn’t be as surprised as Josh, even if she had seen.” Connie had already faced the fact that, by necessity, Pippa would have to be a part of any relationship she began. Would have to approve. That had been an easier theory to accept when it hadn’t been put to the test.

  “Why is it so bad that Josh saw us together?” she asked. “He must know that you’re not a monk.”

  “It’s not that, exactly.” Sean groaned, obviously disgusted with himself, but in a way that singed Connie’s pride. That he avoided looking at her didn’t help.

  “Then what is it?” she asked, seething.

  “It’s about letting him down. His mother remarried so fast. Objectively, he can handle that I’ve dated other women in the past seven years, even if I haven’t paraded any of them in front of him. And I suppose he knows that I might marry again in the future.” Sean gestured. “But piling that on him right now? It’s a critical time for us. I can’t afford to be distracted.”

  “Distracted? Is that what you call it?” Connie leaped to her feet, wishing she could also escape the telltale flush that had flooded her face. She looked down at Sean, her eyes narrowed. She should never have let herself get so vulnerable, so fast.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Did you decide our relationship was ill-timed—practically doomed—before or after you kissed me?”

  He pulled back as if jolted. “What?”

  “You couldn’t figure it out before, huh? Not when there was a chance to have a little amusement first.” Somewhere at the bottom of the hot whirl of emotion, Connie knew she wasn’t being fair. Sean had never struck her as a player. Then again, what did she know? She’d also believed that he was solid and dependable.

  “It wasn’t like that, Connie.”

  She chuffed.

  “Try to understand. I have to concentrate on Josh. No distractions. He deserves that. Hell, he’s pleading for it.”

  “Yes.” Connie nodded stiffly. “I’m a parent, too. I get it.”

  She certainly did. And she also got that for Sean, she wasn’t a woman with needs of her own. She was a distraction.

  Fuming over her all-too-ready acceptance of his kisses when she’d known they would only complicate matters, she pushed through the screen door into the cottage. “Time to go, Pippa. Get your things.”

  Pippa’s head popped up over the back of the sofa. “But the movie’s not over yet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ve seen it before, anyway. Quickly, now. The Raffertys need their privacy.”

  “Connie…” Sean pleaded.

  She looped her arm through Pippa’s and said, “It’s perfectly all right, Sean. Pippa and I have plans of our own, and only a few short days to fit everything in. I’m sure we’ll run across each other before it’s time to go.”

  The back door banged and Josh reappeared. His cheeks were mottled, but he lounged in the kitchen doorway, staring first at his father, then at Connie with coolness bordering on disdain.

  She schooled her face into composure and squeezed her daughter’s arm as if nothing had happened to upset any of them. “Say goodbye to Josh, honey.”

  The air was so tense it prickled. Pippa blinked. “Bye, Josh.”

  He flicked the hair out of his eyes. “Yeah. Bye.”

  Sean stood ramrod straight, as rigid and unrevealing as he’d been on the first day they’d met. “I’ll see you, Pippa.” Connie felt his gaze on her as he added, “Connie.”

  She nodded. Managed to form a smile with her mouth.

  But she couldn’t make herself say goodbye.

  The instant Connie and Pippa were gone, Sean turned to confront his son. But Josh had disappeared into the kitchen. He kept his back to his dad, searching the cupboards for something to eat. He knocked a box of instant oatmeal off the counter, spilling the packets. Tore into a package of cookies and jammed two into his mouth at once. Crumbs fell.

  Disorder bugged Sean, but he said nothing. Let the kid cool off.

  Josh shot a glance at his dad. As he stepped to the refrigerator, he ground one of the packets beneath his shoe, splitting it open. “What are you looking at?” he said thickly.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Josh’s head dove into the fridge. “There’s nothing to drink in here. Can I have a beer?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  He emerged, chugging milk straight from the container.

  Sean got the whisk broom and dust pan that hung on the kitchen wall. He handed them to Josh. “I’m sorry about inviting Mrs. Bradford and Pippa over. I shouldn’t have done that on your first day. I was—I guess I was nervous about having you here.”

  Josh shook his head so the unruly hair fell into his eyes. “I don’t care.”

  “Obviously you do.” Sean winced, thinking of the way he’d dismissed Connie. She’d understand his need to put Josh first, but that didn’t forgive his abrupt change of mind. “It bothered you, to see me kissing her.”

  Josh looked down at the dangling dust pan. “Do what you want.”

  “I want…” Connie’s face appeared to Sean. A change of mind didn’t equal a change of heart.

  He brushed her aside. “I want to spend time with you, Josh. I want us to be father and son again.”

  Josh knelt to sweep up the oatmeal, muttering, “It’s not like we have a choice.”

  Sean squatted beside him. “I did once. About a year after your mom moved you to California, your stepdad wanted to adopt you. They said it would be better if you had their name. That you’d feel more like one of the family.”

  “Shi—Sheesh.” The broom dropped out of Josh’s limp fingers.

  “They made a good argument, but I couldn’t do it.”

  Josh raised his head to stare challengingly. “Why not?”

  Their eyes locked. “The biggest mistake of my life was letting you go in the first place. Losing you completely would have killed me.”

  “I doubt it,” Josh said, but he had to blink and look away.

  Despite Josh’s stiff-shouldered resistance, Sean gave his son a brief, hard hug. “It’s the truth.” He cleared his throat. Picked up the whisk broom. “Now, let’s get this mess cleaned up.”

  “WHY CAN’T WE ASK MR. R. and Josh?” Pippa whined, late the next afternoon. It had been a dreary, boring day. The fog they’d awakened to that morning had never completely dissipated.

  It was, in fact, returning now that the weak drizzle had died. Connie stepped away from the window. Dejection and an unnamed dread lodged in her stomach like bricks.

  Depressing weather. Anyone would feel anxious being stranded in a tiny cottage on a fog-bound island, with a long evening looming ahead.

  “We can’t invite the Raffertys to go kayaking because we’re giving them space,” Connie explained patiently, even though it had to be the sixth joint outing that Pippa had suggested. Apparently she’d warmed up to the idea of having Josh around.

  Was a small island enough space? Connie wondered. In spite of the previous evening’s abrupt end, she felt the pull of Pine Cone Cottage like a magnet. Maybe Pippa did, too, and that’s why she’d been so fractious all day.

  “How come they need space?”

  “The same reason we do. To spend time together.”

  “Sometimes it’s funner doing things with other people along,” Pippa said hopefully.

  Connie couldn’t disagree. But she shook her head.

  Pippa slapped her book shut and dropped it carelessly on the coffee table. Her gaze caught on her notebook. She frowned. “I think you’re just mad at Mr. Rafferty. But I have to see him again!”

  “Why are you so adamant?”

 
; Pippa’s lower lip stuck out. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Dogged. Unyielding.”

  “Like stubborn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stubborn like you not letting us go see Mr. R. and Josh?”

  Connie sighed. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.” She walked around the living room, picking a fleck of lint off the chair, straightening a framed painting of a sailboat at sea. The contrast between the paint-by-number and the old master works at the main house was vaguely amusing.

  Connie looked down at her daughter. “Why are you so intent on seeing Mr. Rafferty?”

  Pippa hugged the notebook to her chest. “I have stuff to tell him.”

  “Can’t you tell me?”

  “I’d rather tell Mr. R. He’s a professional.”

  Still with the “curious observations.” Connie had hoped that, with the completion of the maze project and the distraction of their vacation, her daughter had put all that aside. No such luck.

  “I’m sure you’ll see Mr. Rafferty again before we leave the island. Just not today.”

  Pippa brooded. “At least can I go for a walk?”

  “If you stay close by. Put on your rubber boots and windbreaker. It’s damp out there.”

  After Pippa was gone, Connie sat on the couch and picked up her daughter’s discarded book. Trixie Belden and the Mystery of the Emeralds. The copyright was 1965, and on the cover Trixie was looking fearfully over her shoulder. She paged through, reading a paragraph here and there, looking at the old-fashioned illustrations. Trixie was on the trail of emeralds hidden at a Virginia plantation. The story was sprinkled with lessons learned and wholesome exclamations like “Jeepers!”

  Connie set the book aside and shut her heavy eyes. She hadn’t slept much the night before. Sean’s rejection still stung.

  Was it as easy to fall out of love as it was to fall in…? She didn’t think so.

  Suddenly her head jerked and her lids sprang open. It took her a second to realize that she’d fallen asleep. For how long? She wasn’t wearing a watch, but she couldn’t have been out for more than five or ten minutes.